


Bring Him Down - A BillStan Ficlet Collection

by anysin



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bondage, Fisting, M/M, Nightmares, Rape/Non-con Elements, Stalking, Threats of Impregnation, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Trans Grunkle Stan, Triangle Bill Cipher, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-03-20 06:27:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13711809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anysin/pseuds/anysin
Summary: A collection of BillStan ficlets between 0-500 words, usually. Watch out for smut and darkfic.Latest Addition: What Must Be Done.





	1. Teeth Marked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill calls Stan after the deer teeth commercial.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for stalking and rape threats.

The deer teeth commercial is _hilarious_. Bill can hear Pine Tree squealing in the background as Stan tries to consume the teeth, out of control, and Bill just laughs and laughs. When the commercial ends, Stan is a shivering, humbled mess, and it’s a good look on him. Bill calls him then.

“Hello?” Stan doesn’t even bother to sound cheerful, which makes Bill laugh right in his ear; Stan hangs up. Bill calls him again, and Stan’s voice is even tighter this time: “Who the fuck is this?”

“I love seeing you like this,” Bill says, cackling as Stan slams the receiver down.

He calls again, Stan doesn’t answer. Bill keeps calling, even after Stan takes the cord out of the wall, and it only takes few calls like that for Stan to pick up again. “What are you?” Stan asks, and this time he sounds worried.

“Someone who wants to fuck you,” Bill says, and Stan hangs up.

Seven calls later, Stan picks up again.

“We are doing an exorcism,” Stan starts, but Bill interrupts:

“I want to fill your mouth with those deer teeth and tape it shut. Don’t hang up unless you want something bad to happen to those kids, Stan.”

Stan says nothing, but the receiver stays up.

“See, that’s better. You know what else is better? You trying not to swallow those teeth when I tie you up and rip your clothes off.”

“Now listen-”

“I want to finger your tight little ass and jerk you off while you tell me no, Stan, but I. Won’t. Listen.” The idea fills him with heat, sends his insides twisting and coiling. He wonders how long it would take him to make Stan cry. “Catch the double meaning there?”

“Are you done?” Stan asks, voice cold.

“That depends, are you begging me?”

Stan hangs up for the final time.


	2. Break Him Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill captures Stan and plays with him after Stan falls into the portal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for NSFW and non-con.

Had good ol’ Stanford been the one sucked into the portal, he would have probably had a chance surviving in the strange place that was the multiverse; his brother, who could barely take care of himself in a single universe, hadn’t stood a chance. The moment Bill had spotted Stan, he had captured him, stripped him of his clothes and chained him, and now whenever he’s not busy messing with Ford, he messes with Stan instead. And boy is Stan fun to mess with.

“Your brother hasn’t really tried to rescue you, have you noticed that?”

Stan doesn’t answer; he’s too busy chilling on all fours on the floor, chained from his wrists, ankles and neck, taking an entire hand into his ass. More specifically, Bill’s hand; Bill curls his fingers up against his palm and grinds his knuckles against Stan’s prostate, watching as Stan’s whole body curves and he starts trembling, pre-come dripping down from his cock. His elbows buck, and for a moment it looks like he’s going to hang his head down, collapse forward.

But he doesn’t; just as Stan keeps trying to escape and fight off Bill’s attentions on daily basis, he keeps trying to stay strong whenever they’re playing together, which never ceases to delight Bill. To show his appreciation, Bill smacks Stan on his round, juicy ass with his free hand and pulls the one inside Stan out, slowly, making sure his hole remains spread open. Stan flinches when Bill grabs his hips and prepares to mount him, but he doesn’t say a-

“He will.”

It’s said in such a quiet voice that some inferior creature would have surely missed it, but Bill is anything but inferior. “Is that so?” he asks, pressing his form against Stan’s plump buttocks; he slides his tentacle against Stan’s underside, coating Stan’s cock and balls with his own slick. “Wishful thinker, are you? That’s adorable.”

“He wouldn’t leave me here, he can’t,” Stan says; his already present trembling intensifies, a shaky cry escaping his lips when Bill leans against him, pushing the head of his tentacle to the rim of Stan’s gaping hole.

“And yet he seems to have done just that.” Bill strokes Stan’s back, as if to comfort him; he loves how it distresses Stan even more, his breathing getting faster as he starts to whimper deep in his throat, more and more until the whimpers turn into one muffled, continuous wail. “But hey, maybe it won’t be so bad for you. You will learn to love me, I’ll make sure of it.”

Bill proceeds to show him how much he means that.


	3. Fearful Symmetry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan hates the triangles in Ford's house.

Stan hates the triangles in Ford’s house.

They are inescapable. They are in windows, rugs, door-frames, Ford’s notes- everywhere Stan looks, there is a triangle, and it always stares back at him with its one eye. He could swear they look at him in the dark too, when he’s supposed to be alone.

He clears the room he has selected as his bedroom of the triangles, as well as the room he has decided to use as an office for the Murder Hut business; that makes being in Ford’s house a little easier, but he remains unsettled. He can’t shake off the feeling that he might have offended someone or something by doing this.

It doesn’t take long until he’s proven right.

*

Stan is in his childhood bedroom. He looks down at his body and is relieved to see that it belongs to an adult; he looks up and feels his stomach tighten when, instead of the familiar top bunk, he sees a giant, glowing triangle float above him, complete with a single, staring eye. He doesn’t realize the triangle has any sort of appendages until he sees a pitch-black tendril reach out for him, brushing against his cheek and the underside of his jaw. Stan swallows nervously, watching as the triangle descends, its surface radiating heat as it comes nears Stan.

“Stanley,” it says, with a horrible, distorted voice; Stan’s heart starts hammering, his body trembling. He opens his mouth to say something, or maybe scream, but the tendril winds around it, around his whole head. Stan groans against it, only to regret it when his mouth fills with something wet and sickeningly sweet, and soon he finds himself paralyzed.

“Stanley,” the triangle says again, its surface touching to Stan’s round belly; it feels hot, like the brand did, and this time Stan really wants to scream, but his throat can’t emit any sound. The triangle keeps pressing down, burning hot against Stan, burning his clothes, his skin, his flesh. It closes over his whole body like the lid of a coffin, its eye wide open against Stan’s face, its slit pupil focused on him.

“Stanley,” it says, and it’s swallowing him. Stan doesn’t know how, but it’s swallowing him.

*

Stan starts awake, shaking all over.

Once the fear passes, his first thought is to get up and go smash every triangle-shaped window and rip out all the matching window frames, burn the carpets and smash the glass pyramids that are littered all over the house, eyeless but still as haunting as every single other triangle in the house. He wants to destroy it all, punch out those eyes, he-

Stan takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. He sits there in silence for a moment, just breathing in and out, until the anger passes too, and his mind is clear.

This is Ford’s house. Stan is pretty sure the triangles have some kind of sinister purpose, but this is still Ford’s house and he needs to keep at least some things intact, since the Murder Hut business is going to require him to use lots of Ford’s things to keep it going. He’d be stupid to mess things up just because of a dream. He’s stupid for considering it in first place.

Still-

“You could have warned me about this, bro,” he mutters to the darkness around him.


	4. Crawling Shape Invades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill makes himself home in Stan's mind.

Bill wakes up on the beach.

It’s clean and empty, with no buildings or people in sight; Bill recognizes it anyway. It’s the damned Glass Shard Beach, the one he saw in Ford’s memories time and time again while searching for things that hurt. Back then, the sight of it pleased him, because of all the amusement it could lead to with Ford. Now, it just makes him rage.

Because it’s not Ford’s memory he’s seeing this time, nor is it Ford’s mind where he’s dwelling. It’s Stanley’s mind, and he’s trapped.

Bill screams.

*

The landscape changes, eventually.

On the beach, Bill watches as a forest appears in the distance, full of pine trees. In the forest, he watches as the Shack starts building itself among the trees, starting with the many doors and windows that lead to Stan’s memories before starting to lift up the walls around them. Bill enters the Shack before that happens, before Stan’s mind gets a chance to build up defenses against him.

If Bill is to be here, he will bury himself deep.

As rooms start to form behind the doors and windows, showing glimpses of Stan’s past and present, Bill makes sure to smash every door frame and window pane where changes are happening, so he won’t be locked out of anything that Stan remembers. He doesn’t want to be here, but this place belongs to him now, and he’s going to mold it to his liking.

*

Eventually, an avatar of Stan appears to him.

It’s Stan as he was when he took Bill down, an old man in raggedy undershirt and worn boxers, carrying himself with pride that he shouldn’t by any means have. Bill attacks him, slams into him and drags him down to the floor, strikes him time after time after time. When Stan starts to smile, unaffected by all of it, Bill starts to howl in sheer fury.

“Looks like you’re stuck here,” the avatar says, smug; when Bill punches him, crushing his glasses against his face, grinding the splinters into his skin- he keeps smiling, and soon the damage is gone, like it never happened. “Looks like I’ve got you now.”

“I’ve got YOU!” Bill tears at Stan’s undershirt until it starts falling apart in his hands, until Stan’s chest and stomach are exposed and Bill can dig his claws into his soft flesh, ripping through the layers of skin, fat and muscle. Every time he lifts his hands, the damage disappears, so he tries not to do that, to keep mauling at Stan’s insides until he finds the spine, until he can snap it.

“You think you can hold me here forever? You belong to me now, you worthless worm!” He buries himself into Stan, digging at his insides even as Stan laughs, his voice everywhere, inescapable. “You are mine forever! I will destroy you, I will carve you empty until all there is left is me, I will-!”

Stan disappears, leaving Bill to scratch at the floorboards of the Shack, chase fruitlessly for the evidence that Stan really was here, that he listened, that he understood.

*

The Shack stands complete.

Bill goes outside to check that the forest and the beach are still out there, ready to be exploited before returning back indoors, where he starts checking the doors and windows. Behind doors, Stan’s memories wait; behind windows, there’s the outside world through Stan’s eyes, where he and Ford are preparing for their new life. He can’t do anything about either, not yet; now that he has made sure he’s part of Stan’s mind, Bill needs to heal himself, regain his strength.

One day, he will have his revenge.

Stanley Pines will never know freedom again.


	5. Loyalty Test

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill assaults and threatens Stan in the Fearamid. Trans!Stan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: NSFW, non-con.

“Look at that pretty little cunt!”

Bill’s monsters, all the dozens of them, break into laughter; Stan’s face burns with shame, and he wishes he could pull his legs back together, but he can’t. He’s held in the grip of thick, black tentacles, his legs and arms are spread wide open and he’s naked, his body revealed for all to see. Bill himself is taking his time enjoying the sight, poking at Stan’s breasts with his cane before floating down between Stan’s thighs to stare at Stan’s pussy, its plump folds and the soft hole. Soon Bill is touching it, teasing the sensitive flesh with a silky black fingertip, making Stan shiver.

“Bet you’re still tight like a little girl,” Bill says, and Stan wants to vomit. Bill’s fingers are wriggling in now, his thumb pushing against Stan’s clit, rubbing against it in circles. “I think I ought to test, yes?”

Bill shoves his fingers in, making Stan’s whole body arch; it’s been a while since Stan has been touched like this; his thighs tense, his front teeth sink into his lower lip and he’s groaning deep in his throat, but nothing stops Bill from feeling around with his fingers, scissoring him open.

He hopes so much Bill won’t fuck him; he can take the humiliation, he can even take the touches, but he doesn’t want to be fucked. But it’s going to happen, he knows it; Bill’s thumb withdraws from his clit and then Bill’s whole fist is going inside Stan, knuckles rubbing against the walls of his vagina. Bill’s hand is small and it doesn’t hurt as much as it’s uncomfortable, but Stan wants it out. He wants Bill to leave him alone.

But that’s of course exactly what Bill is after, isn’t it?

“You know, my boys have never fucked a human cunt,” Bill says, his cane disappearing as he rests his other hand down on Stan’s heaving stomach, splaying his fingers wide over it.

“In fact, they don’t really fuck anything unless I give them my permission, and I’m going to give them one soon. I’m going to let them ravage your lady bits until they’re literally that: bits. You should know that they’re a fertile bunch, by the way.”

Stan screws his eyes shut, not wanting to hear it. He ends up screaming when Bill grabs his clit between two fingers and _twists_ it hard, lighting his nerves on fire.

“And they’re going to fuck you until you’re bred, then I’m going to speed up time to make the baby-baking go faster so they can knock you up again, and this will go on and on until you convince Ford to hand over the equation.” Bill’s fist grows twice, thrice, ten times as big as it was before and Stan feels like he’s being torn open; he bucks hard against the tentacles, only to make the monsters laugh all the more.

“How about it, Stan? You can stop this right here.” The fist grows small again, but Bill is rough when he yanks it out, and he makes sure to bring his hand in front of Stan’s face, making him shudder at the faint streaks of blood on the black skin. “Say yes, and this won’t go further.”

It would be a lie to say he doesn’t want to say yes so, so badly.

Stan says nothing.

“All right then.” Bill grabs him from the hips, growing bigger as he goes red. “The first go will be mine. You will like it when I’m finished with you, but you won’t like it afterwards.”


	6. What Must Be Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a world taken over by Weirdmageddon, Bill and Stan celebrate their anniversary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NSFW, non-con, red pyramid!Bill.

Stan wakes - reluctantly - to the feeling of something wet and thick pressing between his legs. When he opens his eyes, he sees that Bill is there in his red pyramid form; his fingers are looped around Stan’s ankles, squeezing them lightly as he laps at the insides of Stan’s thighs with his long, black tongue. Upon noticing that Stan is looking at him, Bill’s grip on Stan’s ankles tightens as he pulls Stan’s legs wide apart.

“Don’t you ever get enough?” Stan can’t keep the slight note of despair away from his voice when Bill’s tongue slides up to brush over his groin, wetting his balls and cock; he hates that his body responds so eagerly, his cock stiffening and his balls tightening, his hole twitching in anticipation. Bill has trained him well.

Bill has had plenty of time to do that by now, train Stan. The world is his, and so is Stan; that’s the price Stan agreed to pay for trying to kill him, in exchange of his family’s safety.

“Nah.” Bill’s second mouth, the lower one, has been closed so far; now it opens up, another tongue lolling out and reaching down for Stan’s ass, licking its way between the solid cheeks. Stan can’t help but squirm against the slobbery touch, but he forces himself to relax as much as he can, so he won’t be too tense. The easier time Bill has with him, the better it is for them both.

“You should be honored about that, actually.” Bill thrusts his tongue along Stan’s ass crack, rubbing against Stan’s hole from the outside; Stan’s cock jerks over the idea of something filling him soon, and his face goes hot with shame over his reaction.

Bill laughs at that, adding:

“I mean, just look at you, being the favorite for once in your life! This is a positive development in your life! Embrace it!”

The soft, squelching sound that follows those words is nothing to jump over, yet Stan does so; Bill laughs again, pressing the tip of his tongue firmly against Stan’s hole as a thick, black tentacle slides into Stan’s line of sight from beneath him. It’s the one Bill uses specifically for mating, Stan knows that by now; he guesses he should be honored by the way it stretches out for him, all pulsing and eager, joining Bill’s tongue as it pushes between Stan’s buttocks.

Stan grinds at the inside of his cheek with his teeth, his own pulse throbbing loud in his ears.

The tentacle starts to push in, slow and precise; it fills Stan up, spreads his hole wide open as it inches deeper and deeper inside him, sliding over every inch of soft, sensitive flesh available. Stan can’t stop his back from curving, like he’s asking for more, like he’s loving this. Maybe part of him does, by now. This is what he must do to live.

“Happy anniversary, baby,” Bill whispers, grabbing Stan’s wrists with another pair of hands so he can pin them down to the both sides of his head. Leaning against Stan with his full weight, Bill presses down towards him, his massive, black eye coming down to rest against Stan’s face, soft, warm and wet.

Stan inhales sharply, then falls slack beneath Bill. This is what he must do to survive.


End file.
